Away from the crowd, a young male with a quiet disposition covered his gray and blue hair with his purple-black hoodie, lingering in thought.

"Three reasons why I can't join them. One, I have little in common with a group like that. Two, they each have an additional companion to join them," rubbing his hand. "And three, this Club Festival doesn't support my personality."

From the flash of a bright light, he started hyperventilating, recalling the blinking lights that haunted him the night he was put into the ambulance. He closed his eyes, walking until he could sense the red flashes were out of his orbit onto the stairs. A strange noise captivated him towards the basement.

He closed his eyes from the neon lights, heading towards an open room. There a blue haired girl dressed up in school clothing but with wings dancing around with a camera and laptop in front of her.

Confused, and mesmerized, the stoicism from his face dropped, growing intrigue with every second. As he peeked in for more, his foot tripped into the wall.

As he fell to the ground, the young lady's head jerked to his direction, alarmed.

"What-what-what are you doing here?"

"Do I know you," gazing at their hair, squinting enough to sense there was a wig between their hair.

She slapped down her laptop and mic, running out of the room, only to trip on his leg.

The young boy offered his hand. "Um, you alright?"

She picked herself up and was about to leave when he pulled her back towards the wall, sitting side by side.

"What are yo-"

"Ssh. Footsteps," he whispered.

She calmed down, closing her eyes to the sound of people walking down the stairs.

"That dumb Bernadette bimbo kicked us out of the room. Can't even smoke this at home," one said.

"Yo, we should steal the fire extinguisher and go wild."

"What's going on down here?"

The girl gulped. "Isn't that the principal?"

The boy nodded as Mr. Vival asked them about what was down here, leading them upstairs. Once the door closed, the young girl turned to him.

"You're, your name is Yunus Wisteria, right?"

Another nod. "And you are," scratching his head to her dismay.

"Amelia Kaizen! We've been in the same class for two years already?! Doesn't ring a bell?"

Yunus shook his head.

"Right, you're more silent than an exam hall," frustrated. "Then again, I can relate."

Yunus raised his eyes when the sound of two other women walking down the stairs convinced him not to say anything.

"Did anyone see Princess Pouty at all today?"

"Amelia's face is so putrid and bland, I'm surprised she wasn't some sort of computer program."

Yunus saw the veins of their target's veins, all reminiscent of his rage against the nightmares that wouldn't end, and his parent's attempts to help him.

It didn't work for me, but, calmly reaching over his hand to her palm. He lifted his other hand up and down while quietly breathing.

Amelia fought the water in her eyes to focus on what he was saying, the warmth of his hand melting the tears that fell on her eyes. Her deep breath muddled the sounds of her detractors until the sound of the young new teacher drove the duo out of there, leaving them alone again.

She wiped her eyes. "Thanks," taking off her wig. "I needed that."

"Do you deal with that often?"

"Yeah. My brother's busy at work so I don't really have anything at home to do. I thought about making friends, but every year, it's the same nonsense over and over again with school," crouching to her knees. "I hate it here."

He wasn't sure what to say, finding it all a formality until he noticed the wig. "Why were you down here anyway? That?"

"Ever wanted to be someone else?"

He thought back to the crew in the room sharing food and smiling together. "At times."

"I saw a ton of videos about these animated people with cool costumes and a lot of followers. They don't know me in real life. But I started trying this. And now I have a few hundred people who listen to what I want to say. It feels nice, but I don't want to get doxxed."

He raised a finger. "Someone could try to trace this location based on the surroundings. Why not make a virtual avatar then?"

She lit up. "I can do that?"

"With help. Based on your choice of actions, I'm guessing you're neither adept at technology."

"Rude! But," decreasing her temper, "you're not wrong."

Yunus recalled his previous therapy's failings. A spark lit in his brain.

"I could help you."

"Really? But we need to join a club."

"Two problems plus one solution: let's form one. We'll get the money for technology, and I can teach you. We'll only need a few auxiliary members every now and then."

Amelia thought it over. "Okay. Let's do it. Maybe I should give this wig back."

"Keep it," he blurted out. "Both looks, suit you."

"You think," getting and picking him up. "Sure, looking forward to it."

The two walked out of the basement, garnering a bit more respect for one another.